Mirrors
by agnostia
Summary: This is a series of short drabbles about the various mirrors of the new tmeline.


_This is a series of Spock/Uhura mirrorverse drabbles I wrote sometime ago. I was reminded of their existence and decided to post them here, given the most recent issue of Star Trek Ongoing._

_Since we learn from JJverse that there are infinite timelines, I would say that each of these drabbles are a snippet from a different "mirror"._

_Spock and Uhura run the gamut from lovers to enemies. These snippets do cover some dark stuff. So don't be fooled by the Teen tag._

_ Consent issues, torture, abortion, as well as a major character death are all here._

**Meeting**

* * *

The Vulcan guards stood aside to allow Uhura to enter the immense chamber. She walked slowly, her footsteps echoing lightly in her wake. Her entire body was covered in clinging layers of dark brown and gray except for her face and the fingers of her right hand.

A small bundle swayed gently across her chest.

Her figure hadn't changed much. She was still slimmer and slighter than most, though heavier up top now as one would expect. She stood before the older woman and waited.

"Come closer." she said, beckoning slightly with her hand.

"I wish to see him."

'She bobbed the bundle gently, eliciting a light 'coo' and stepped up to where the woman was seated. Both women's faces were unreadable masks. She stood just out of reach and moved just a bit of cloth aside to reveal the infant's face.

It was paler than she would have expected and piglet-like, it's face scrunched up even in the low light of the room. A few dark wispy curls were visible, as well as his ears -_yes_, the ears _were_ Vulcan. She exhaled. Life might be easier for him.

The other woman's face softened slightly.

"What's his name?"

"S'chn T'gai Sen Kel"

"May I _please_ -"

Uhura shook her head. "That's not part of the deal."

Lady Amanda's expression turned pained.

"I risk much just being here, but I thought you had a right to see him..." Uhura said. "..._He_ would know." she added, as a reminder.

Lady Amanda nodded. Yes. Of course, he would. Remnants of emotion transferred by her touch would linger in the child.

They stared at each other for a long moment as worlds of understanding passed between them. Uhura then lifted her hand in salute as Lady Amanda did so in turn, re-covered the babe's face, and left.

**Among Aliens and Men**

* * *

A woman of terrible beauty stands among aliens and men, looking both comfortable and profoundly out of place.

She stares up into their many faces, her eyes bright with anticipation, her lips settled into a curved line, a bright red slash on her face.

"I have no qualms about destroying you all, but I never do so frivolously. Simply give us what we require and I will grant you mercy."

One of the aliens is sprawled on the ground before her, half-kneeling. Obviously of stature, it wears the most elaborate of their clothing. A black substance oozes from a cut beneath it's large blinking white eye. It coughs and sputters.

"We have given all that we can spare without guaranteeing our own destruction in any event." It says. "At least this way, our deaths will be honorable."

She sighs and flips open her communicator. "Bring the young one."

An officer appears with a small alien tethered on a leash, it's limbs bound behind it. It vocalizes desperately in it's tongue, mostly whistles and clicks.

The woman answers it sharply in the same tongue and it stills.

She looks down at the prone alien leader and laughs darkly.

"I don't need this translator. It just mutes that incessant noise that you call a language for my men."

"-_Now_." Keeping her eyes fixed on the alien leader, she reaches out her hand. The leash-handle is placed within and she squeezes.

The young alien's body seizes and jerks, emitting a high, piercing warble of pain.

The alien leader's entire body shifts in color and shivers, but it says nothing.

The woman squeezes harder until the young alien stops making sounds, but begins to smell of cooked flesh.

She releases the handle and it's body drops to the ground.

Another young alien is brought forth.

"You have four of them left before I must move on to the others'."

The rest of the aliens present shiver and shift in color as well.

"We destroy you our way and take what we want or you give it to us and afford yourselves a slim chance that you will find another way to survive. -_You choose_."

The silence is thick, an almost physical weight between them.

Finally, the alien creature nods mutely and the woman touches her communicator.

"_-Commander._"

"Send down an extraction team."

High above in orbit, a Vulcan listens intently from his cloaked ship.

"_Sir, we have a lock on her position._"

"Proceed."

The characteristic hum and light of a transporter beam surrounds her and her men move, but she holds up a hand and orders them to complete the mission as her molecules come apart.

They reconfigure in a hot dark humid space and she is surrounded by Romulans.

A Vulcan emerges from a corridor and stares at her.

"So, here we are." she smiles, unsurprised. "The traitor has returned. -Is it your season again, Spock?"

"Already past, Nyota." His face remains predictably impassive.

"Take her to the brig."

**None of Mine**

* * *

Uhura gripped the rim of her toilet as all of the contents of her stomach splashed obscenely into the bowl. She sat on the floor, dizzy and dehydrated and willed her body not to be in the state that she suspected.

She flushed, rinsed her mouth, brushed her teeth, and showered. She checked the time. His shift would be over in less than three hours. Not long.

She opened her comm. A bedraggled looking Bones rubbed his eyes on the other end.

"I apologize for waking you but...I need to see you right away."

He was fully awake now. "What is it? -Was that hobgoblin rough with you?"

"No... I'll tell you at the clinic." She cut the comm and finished dressing, vomiting once more before she was able to leave her quarters.

Once there, she looked up at him said "Tell me I'm not pregnant."

McCoy used the tricorder to scan her belly and said... "I'm sorry. I can't do that, lady."

She seemed to deflate, her whole body sagging into the bio-bed.

"Leonard." she said, her eyes wide with fear. "I can't carry it...I can't make any more like him."

"I know I'm asking you to risk a lot here...The last thing I want is for you to pay for my choice, but..._I can't_."

He reached over and squeezed her hand, his face sad and resigned. She hadn't chosen this. He had chosen her and he was cruel.

He lorded over her, as if she were a rare prize to be jealously guarded and yet even with all of his infamous Vulcan control, he couldn't find it within himself to treat her with the necessary restraint.

The cabins were sound-proof but one could still feel the rhythmic thumps, could see the recurring patterns of darkened marks decorating her wrists and neck, -and her _careful_ movements.

It began without warning. One day she was refined and untouchable, the next few she and Spock were no where to be found. Then thereafter she was his. There was never an obvious public display of this, but she had been diminished... She who shrank from no one, visibly shrank back from him.

He had wanted her with child, she could feel it every time he pushed his way into her mind. He had calculated this move thoroughly, a way of extending his power both over her and within the Empire.

But she would not be used, -none of hers would be used in this way.

McCoy knew the hobgoblin would figure out what was done, that it had been him. He knew that he would eventually pay dearly for this favor, but he couldn't say no.

Not when it was for her.

He quickly loaded a hypo-spray and looked into her eyes once more, a question of surety.

She nodded.

The sound of pressured air and a slight wince from Uhura and it was done.

**A Message**

* * *

"It has become necessary to reinforce Mr. Chekov's sense of loyalty." he said and her smile grew wider.

"I see this pleases you. Would you rather take charge of this task?"

"Mmm, I quite enjoy watching how efficient you are in this, ashal-veh, but I also quite enjoy having my hand in, as you well know. ...Perhaps, we could take turns?"

"As you say." he said and gently brushed a few fingertips across her brow.

Chekov worked his station and finished his shift without incident, confident that his little reports would eventually pile-up enough to warrant a demotion for Spock and a possible promotion for himself, consequences no one would ever discover he had been responsible for.

He was practically strolling through the corridors, lifted by the knowledge of his own cunning, when he came upon Spock and Uhura, for all the world looking like they were meeting someone for a date.

"Hello, Mr Chekov." Spock said, his eyes gleaming.

Chekov sensed trouble immediately. Perhaps, he could slip away...

"-Commander, -Lieutenant." he said, nodding with a forced smile. "I was just going to meet Hikaru."

Uhura casually stepped closer. "I'm afraid he is no longer in his quarters. -We've just been by, you see."

Chekov's smile instantly melted away. "...Look. You must know, he had nothing, _absolutely_ nothing to do with this. He is still the best pilot in the Empire... It was all me, okay?"

"Aww." Uhura said, placing an open palm on his chest. "You _do_ love him, very much. You would never betray _him_ to the Empire, now would you?"

Chekov didn't trust his words, so he simply shook his head.

"The Lieutenant makes an excellent point. With the proper motivation, even one such as yourself can find justification to remain loyal to your fellow crew-members. -This is not beyond your comprehension and yet you choose not to."

"I -I'm sorry. Please, don't hurt him." Chekov said, his voice close to tears.

Uhura laughed. "Oh Chekov, we haven't harmed him. What kind of people do you think we are? _You_ on the other hand... We have every right to." she finished coldly.

With that, Chekov felt a shooting pain radiate through-out his body touching every part of him, -inescapable. He dully thought that the crazy bitch must have taken his agonizer and placed it on him without his knowledge, before the world went black.

He slowly came to, tied to a chair in the middle of one of the interrogation chambers. It was dimly lit and permanently smelled of various lifeforms' bodily fluids, despite having been frequently cleaned.

Shockingly cold water splashed over his body and he jerked in his restraints, his whole body trembling violently.

Uhura chuckled and she put the hose down.

"Where's Hikaru?" Chekov asked.

Neither one of them answered him.

"When did you begin these transmissions?" Spock calmly inquired.

Chekov hesitated and Spock activated his agonizer. He held the button for what seemed like an eternity. Chekov felt his bladder release beneath the blinding pain.

He cut the device and repeated his question.

"For, -For the past ten months. -The captain would never authorize these alliances. Aliens are dangerous, unpredictable...They can't _feel_ what we do." he said desperately, unwisely addressing Uhura.

Uhura lifted her leg and placed a hard boot-heel against his groin. Chekov howled. "-Is that so?"

She slowly increased the pressure.

"Please..._PLEASE!"_

She gripped his face in one hand, forcing him to look at her. "It's a shame. All of that uncanny intellect... You've been in space _all this time_ and yet you remain _so simple._"

She let her boot-heel drop and he gasped at the bright flare of pain as the tension released. He felt like she might have permanently damaged him. He watched her move next to Spock, their fingers briefly touching.

"Your prejudice weakens you. -_It blinds you_ and the rest of the Empire to the inevitable fall to come." Uhura said.

"Your Hikaru is here. He will be allowed to assist you shortly... but before that is to come to pass, I require the names of those you have been in contact with and the exact data that you have provided them with." Spock said.

Chekov gave all that he could, including the encryption codes for his messages, names, and the dates they were sent. ...Like a good little boy.

Afterward, Uhura disappeared for a time and then returned leading Hikaru bound in front of her, her knife-point at his throat.

"You must not ever do this again." she said gently, as if admonishing a child for stealing a cookie.

She then calmly drew the blade down the side of Sulu's face, while both men screamed.

Spock nerve-pinched Sulu and Chekov watched through teary, hate-filled eyes as they untied his unconscious form.

"When he regains consciousness, he will provide the necessary assistance." Spock informed him.

Uhura wiped her blade on Chekov's shoulder, re-holstered it and followed Spock out of the room.

**A Worthy Distraction**

* * *

"Why me?"

"No one knows his mind. All decisions can be made logical by him."

The once beautiful woman looked up at her sadly, her cybernetic eye a testament to High Commander Spock's "logic".

"Perhaps, it's just because you're pretty, but more likely it's your heart. Sentimentality fascinates him." she said, bitterly.

"...The challenge of destroying that."

Uhura shivered as comprehension of what she would be in for threatened to overwhelm her. He had been through many women. Earth women were said to be his preference. Almost all had been killed or sold into lesser hands after he had tired of them. This woman, Leila, had survived him relatively intact. She would do well to listen.

"Do not lie or beg...He will only take further pleasure in breaking you if you fight him."

She continued arranging her hair up off her neck. He would want nothing in the way of his rough caress.

"Just do as he says and perhaps he will be merciful." she said and gave her hand a tight squeeze. "You must wait here."

Leila gestured towards the large bed and exited the room.

Uhura sat down and scanned the room. She tried to imagine better places than this, tried not to think of what was to come.

Less than a hour later, Spock entered and simply stood across the room with his hands clasped behind his back, staring at her.

"Do you fear me?" he asked.

"Yes." she answered honestly. Lies were no good to a telepath.

"Because you know what I am capable of."

"Yes." she said.

He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.

"Look at me."

She took a breath and looked up at his face. It's stoniness chilled her to the bone.

His eyes rolled like black marbles over her features. He seemed almost bored.

"You have a long neck." he observed.

"-and unusually large eyes, for your race."

"...Enviable coloring."

He touched her cheek and she flinched. He ignored it and allowed himself to gain the barest impression of her thoughts.

"Your mind is sound."

His thumb skated across her lower lip. "_Open_ for me."

She obeyed.

He pressed in just slightly, teasing her tongue as he continued to speak.

"Do you know why I prefer Terran females?"

It was hypothetical. She could hardly speak anyway, so she simply waited for him to continue.

"It is because of your lack of self-discipline, your flagrant emotionalism. Natural whores to any telepath, you cannot help yourselves."

"Also -The females of your species vary wildly and yet you are all predictable. The paradox fascinates me."

"Aesthetically, your species is closest to that of the Vulcan ideal, but you are all such -_fragile_ creatures..."

He pushed his thumb in deeper. She simply allowed her mouth and tongue to go slack.

"_No._ -Apply yourself to this task."

She steeled herself and followed his instructions, closing her lips around the digit to suck.

He wrapped his other hand around her throat, caressing it at first and then tightening, steering her body to lay flat on her back against the bed.

He began to peel her robe apart.

She was shaking now. She couldn't help it. The heat of him, the relentlessness of his nonchalance ...and she had heard the rumors.

He adjusted his grip around her neck and watched her jugular vein pulse beneath his thumb.

"You tremble like a newborn fawn. It is most refreshing." and he almost smiled.

"You will be a worthy distraction."

**Severed**

* * *

_**vulcanwhore**_

A macabre necklace, the words had been carved into her neck using the fine laser-point of a phaser. Otherwise, she seemed intact. But he knew that they had used her agonizer on her, had tortured her to death, as McCoy said.

"...Which I hadn't thought was possible." He added, brusquely.

He lifted a trembling hand to where she lay on the bio-bed and gently moved a few tendrils of hair from her face. An illogical movement, he knew, since she was no_ longer_-, but he had to touch her again, had to see her face unobstructed.

McCoy thought he had never looked as Vulcan as he did in that moment, his features immutable.

It had been his fellow crew-mates who had found her choice of partner intolerable. Had she been _less_... Then perhaps, it would've been acceptable enough. But she was truly her namesake, a blinding star destined to blaze a trail through-out the Empire, regardless of any attachment to a Terran man.

She was just that good, her talents that necessary, transcending her gender.

But she had chosen him, a half-caste, a mixed-race being for her mate. Forever seen as the enemy, as naturally subservient and dim in his understanding of his human half even in the face of evidence to the contrary.

She chose to diminish herself, to endure his pain for the rare joy of their attachment. He had wanted more for her, but her logic had been impeccable...

He had been too selfish in this.

His hand flexed at his side, the instinct to attempt to retrieve what he knew was not, -_could _not be almost overtaking him.

Humans do not have katras.

She was gone, like his mother.

...Only a specter of his memories, like his mother.

Granted not even the comfort of the knowledge of her soul's perpetuity. Logic dictated that she had simply been ended.

...Had _ceased_.

A heavy physical ache began to spread through-out his being.

He felt a huge swell of emotions; anger, regret, disbelief, and a sense of unreality in the void she had left push _hard_ at his mental dam.

He knew them. He knew who had done it. -And he felt the dam crack.

-Felt the horrible loop in his mind begin. Felt it_ fly_ from him...

He stared down at her empty unblinking eyes, but only saw them. -_saw_ it slip...

Saw the ensign repeatedly attack his own reflection, until the virtually shatter-proof glass splintered against his broken hand.

Saw him retrieve a jagged shard from the basin and begin to carve into his own flesh, heard his high shriek with a twist of bereft satisfaction.

A groundswell of chaos erupted on the Enterprise. Violence that was normally calculated had become creative, random, and extremely cruel even for this ship...

The red alert blared loudly and McCoy gripped his head in pain, while he searched for the proper hypo-spray. He couldn't make his mind work right. What should have been simple to find became distant, a tauntingly unknown object beneath the horrible throb of realization...

_- she is _**_gone from me_** -

Through the haze, he helplessly watched the Vulcan; still frozen, as gone as she.


End file.
